The Storyteller's Holiday
by Kunegundian
Summary: This is total rubbish. Tons of fun, and anything but serious. I just...er...wanted to take a holiday.
1. Chapter 1

BBBZZZZZZT

"Hah!" she exclaimed woozily. "Something's gone wrong!"

With some effort, she lifted her head. Wisps of hair tried insistently to get stuck in her mouth and eyes. She pushed them away impatiently, and squinted. Everything was blurry. In the brightness it was difficult to make anything out. She punched the ground around her, trying to get a feel for the edge of…of…of something…

"Awwwww _bugger_," she said. "I've got no idea where I am, do I?" The girl blinked blearily. "More than that," she murmured, "I can't remember where I _was_."

Slowly, her eyes adjusted to the light. As the world became clearer, it became more and more apparent that nothing—not her surroundings, not her stray bits of memory—was remotely familiar.

After a time, she lifted herself to her feet. She noticed it was warm—a definite plus. All around her was thick, green vegetation, in all appearances totally benign. She noticed her feet were bare; she wiggled her toes in what looked like a perfect circle of grass. "It can't be all that bad," she mused aloud, picking at the wraparound dress she found herself wearing. "I may have lost my memory, but at least I know I've lost it. And I also know this is a fine place to lose one's memory in—even if the whole circumstance is a little odd. But, on the other hand," she suddenly frowned, "why should I think it so odd?" Biting her lip, she paced pensively over the circular patch of grass.

A good minute and a half passed in this manner. Then a rustling in the foliage broke her reverie, and she looked up. "Hello?" she ventured, craning her neck to see into the trees. "Hello—is someone there?" For an instant the notion that her language might be useless at that particular moment crossed her mind. But soon the source of the rustling presented itself.

"Hello." It was a man in a yellow shirt.

_Mustard,_ thought the girl. She waved.

Behind him came two more men, these in blue. They offered no greeting.

The girl pursed her lips. There was something peculiarly familiar about these people. If only she knew exactly what it was…

"Excuse me—"

She snapped back to attention. "Sorry," she said. "Were you talking to me? I've only just woken up, you see, so I'm rather scattered. I haven't got much idea where I am—did you just ask me where this was? Ah. I see. Well, I don't really know, having just arrived myself…I think…oh dear, I don't truly know. But I did just wake up. In this very spot, actually."

There was a brief silence.

"So much for the plan to find local assistance, Jim," said the shorter man in blue. "It looks like the locals aren't going to be much help."

"This girl may not be a local, Doctor," the taller one said. "She does not fit the profile of this world's inhabitants."

"Oh, he's got the right idea," the girl said, waving a hand at the tall one. "The more I think on it, the more it seems I'm not from this world at all."

"What…would make you think that?" asked the mustard-shirted man.

"Ahhh…I'm not sure. It's just a…" she paused, knitting her brows together. "It's just a feeling." Suddenly, she felt compelled to look up at the tall one. He looked puzzled. "Very strange," she whispered to herself.

"Do you have any idea where you _do _come from?" asked the one who'd been called Doctor.

The girl gave a half smile. "Not really, no. It's sort of unnerving, though. And, weird beyond weird, I have this notion that I know you all already from somewhere. Don't ask me where."

"Can I ask your name?" This from Mustard.

"You may. I'm—"

The three men leaned forward.

She experienced a sudden sinking feeling. "Ah…give me a moment." The girl rubbed her eyes. "I'm…come on. I've got a name. I know I have. I'm…" It was no use. She huffed in frustration, and twisted her foot in the turf. "My name…" she began once more, and looked up at the men. Suddenly her eyes widened. "Oh, well that isn't fair at all," she grumbled.

"What's not fair?"

"Why, I know _your_ names, and not mine!"

"_Our_ names?"

"Yes—Mustard-shirt, you're Captain James Kirk. Doctor, you're Leonard McCoy, and you—you're Spock. I don't know why you are. You just are."

"Fascinating."

"I should say so. But I'm more inclined to say _frustrating_, for I've got no idea how I know who you are!" She threw up her hands and huffed. "And now you've got to get back to your ship, before such-and-such happens, it hardly matters what, so you can go about your business, and for whatever reason your communication is down, and you're being pursued by super-vicious giant sentient cats, for chrissakes, and—"

"Woah, woah, just a minute, now." Kirk stepped forward, peering oddly at the girl. "How do you know all this?"

"Well, I'd sure like to know," she replied. "But I'll tell you this: I think those cats are catching up to you." She hopped from one foot to the other, suddenly agitated. "Spock, you don't want to have traveled halfway across the galaxy just to be eaten by a cat, do you? That's, like, every Vulcan kid's worst nightmare. You'd better fix those communicators."

"The communicators are not in need of repair. Our communications to the ship seem to be intercepted by some means connected with our former captors."

"Oh, you escaped, did you? Well done." She cocked her head to one side. "Now, how did I not know that, when I knew there was imminent danger of death by giant cat…?"

"Look," the captain said, "I don't know who you are, or how you know these…things about us—"

"That makes two of us."

Kirk sighed. "So you'll forgive us if we don't entirely trust you. For all we know, you've been planted here to lead us back to the dungeon we came from."

Somewhere behind them, hidden by a not-terribly-long distance of foliage, a distinct yowl could be heard.

The girl felt a bizarre tingling in the soles of her feet. "Oh, I sincerely doubt I'm capable of doing you harm," she said with feeling. "And I'd hate to see you three eaten," she said, twirling around to face the other side of the clearing. "I'm going to make a run for it. You're welcome to follow me. Who knows," she turned to look over her shoulder at the men, and shrugged, "I might just lead you to a place where you can talk with the ship."

"It seems we have little alternative," murmured Spock to his captain.

"It's all just a bit too surreal," said McCoy. "But if this is what we've got to work with…"

"We'll follow," Kirk announced. "But if we don't get communication—"

"Okay!" the girl exclaimed, not waiting for him to finish. "Let's go!" With that, she crashed into the underbrush.

­* * *

More crashing!


	2. Chapter 2

­Chapter 2

The forest was thick, but not unmanageable. The girl's bare feet slapped the spongy ground as she ran; it seemed as if her awareness expanded each time her skin connected with the forest floor.

"I'm on another planet," she whispered breathlessly to herself, twisting through the underbrush. The notion bubbled up into her brain like it was frozen and she had just bitten on it. "I don't even know how I know. It's not like I remember anything to compare it to." She looked back over her shoulder at the three men running behind her, and grinned. "Aw man, am I gonna have some fun—"

From somewhere behind them, a deep growl demanded their attention.

"WHOOP! Ah-hah-hah!" She leapt over a fallen log, her arms flailing. "I'm being chased by giant cats! Yeeeeeehaw!"

"Keep your voice down, will you?" snarled McCoy, running close behind. "We've got enough trouble without you screaming at the top of your lungs!"

"Oh, come on, Doctor!" Plumed creatures scattered as the girl tripped her way giddily through the underbrush. "It's not like they can't hear us anyway. And besides—" She thrashed gleefully at a sudden stand of thick grass. "—we're hardly in any danger!"

"Oh?" Kirk said. He did not sound convinced. "And why's that?"

"Because…" She plunged forward, until all vegetation ceased. She stood with her hands on her hips, smiling with approval at the scene before them. "You three always get away in the end."

The captain's jaw set. They were standing, a bit foolishly, at the edge of a steep canyon. "You call this getting away?"

"Er…not at this very moment, perhaps, but—"

"Captain," Spock said dourly, fiddling with the tricorder that hung at his side, "Our pursuers are fast approaching."

"Right!" The girl clapped her hands, and the canyon resounded with echoes. "We could use a flying platform right now."

"A flying _what_?"

"You know—like something an ancient civilization might have left behind, that is only waiting for some noise to wake it up, and set it working again…"

"You're mad. You're completely out of your mind." McCoy leaned on a convenient rock and panted miserably. "Jim, what are we—"

"OY!" The girl heaved a rock into the chasm. It clattered against the sheer walls beautifully. "I'm in need of some assistance, here!" Her scream seemed to resonate all around them "Send me a PLATFORM!"

"Jim, I really think—"

"Bones…Listen!"

They all listened. Deep within the dusty red rock of the canyon, a deep rumbling had started to grow.

The men looked at each other in astonishment.

"Spock…what is that?"

"It appears…" He twisted the knobs of the tricorder with incredulity. "Captain, it appears to be a large, flat object approaching us from the bottom of this canyon…mechanical in nature."

"I'll believe it when I see it," said McCoy, peering over the edge.

With a mighty WHOOSH the promised platform flew into view, spinning round to come to a tenuous halt before them.

"Do you believe it now, Bones?"

"Fascinating."

"How in the name of all that's holy did you know that was going to be there?"

"Um," said the girl, trying to approach the wavering platform. "I had a hunch, I suppose." Finally grabbing a corner of the machine, she pulled it down until the platform hung in the air at an angle to the ground, making a sort of ramp. "Come on," she beckoned, clambering onto the rusted contraption. "Those silly cats'll be here soon."

"I can't believe we're actually trusting this lunatic," McCoy mumbled. "But I don't suppose we have any alternative, do we?"

"Not unless you wish to face our pursuers," Spock said. He looked towards the captain.

Kirk nodded resignedly, and marched towards the platform. "All right, men," he said, climbing on as the others followed. "Let's take our chances with this thing."

The very moment that everyone had hauled themselves onto the floating metal machine, out onto the canyon's edge crashed the super-vicious giant sentient cats. They growled petulantly as the platform began to rise, and clawed the air in frustration.

"Neener neener," said the girl quietly as they floated further and further out of reach. "No triumvirate for you."

McCoy gasped as the platform's raspy hum faltered, and their transportation dipped momentarily in the sun-laden atmosphere. "If we make it through this alive," he said through clenched teeth, "I promise I won't ever complain about the transporters."

Kirk laughed, and looked over the edge to the rocky chasm below. He seemed to be enjoying himself. "Careful, Bones," he said. "I'll hold you to that."

The small group sailed swiftly, if precariously, through the air. The whir of machinery ground and clinked beneath the sheet of metal on which they sat; Spock was immersed in examining every detail of the contraption he could without falling off.

The girl sat with her face to the wind, singing softly to herself. "You don't know what-ah we can find—why dontcha come with me, little girl, on a magic carpet ride!"

"So," Kirk said, leaning on one arm and looking up at her. "Are you sure you don't have a name?"

"I'm sure that I do," she replied without looking down. "But I'll be buggered if I know what it is."

"Well, do you at least know _what _you are?" McCoy asked. "For someone who thinks she doesn't come from this world, you sure seem to know a lot about it."

She pressed her lips together, and tilted her head to one side. "I do seem to, don't I?" she said. For a moment she peered distractedly into the distance, the warm wind knotting up her hair. She ran a hand through it, and got her fingers stuck. "That's incidental, I think," she said finally, tugging at her hair. "My awareness seems to be…um…fairly selective."

"Excuse me." Spock had risen from his examination of their ancient transport, and was peering about them with what looked suspiciously like consternation. "We do not seem to be nearing the other side of the canyon. In fact, we are traveling fairly consistently in the very center of the chasm." He turned to look at the girl. "Since you led us to this machine, and caused it to function, perhaps you can tell us how to steer—or, if this is impossible, perhaps you know where we are being taken?"

Everyone turned to stare at her.

"Sure," said the girl, not sounding sure at all. She looked around her, and took a deep breath. The clarity she'd felt when standing at the edge of the canyon was absolutely gone. Once again, everything seemed unfamiliar. She turned to Spock sheepishly, and bit her lip.

"Oh no," McCoy said. "Please tell me you know where this thing is going."

"F-frankly," she said, faltering as the platform wobbled again, "I have not the faintest idea."


End file.
